


Axe In His Head

by Wingwyrm



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Angst, Deep Ones, Gen, Happy Ending, I have bifur feelings, but not sad, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 09:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingwyrm/pseuds/Wingwyrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bifur got that axe in his head, everyone was surprised that he lived. His cousins weren't sure what they were going to do when he was unconscious, but they did have to make a choice and live with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Axe In His Head

**Author's Note:**

> So, first Hobbit fic. First Tolkien fic, actually. Was reading the KinkMeme and this called to me in ways I've never felt before! (okay, so I'm maybe lying about that, but I couldn't leave it alone once I'd seen the pic! OMG Bofur's expression and the hat in his hands and Bombur and the healer and omg. Look at the picture people. Just do it.)
> 
> prompt addy: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/1990.html?thread=1781446t1781446
> 
> Prompt: _http://crawlingstone.tumblr.com/image/38467695906_
> 
>  
> 
> _PLEASE. DONT SAY YOU DONT WANT THIS._  
>  I need this like air. 
> 
>  
> 
> _[Pairings also acceptable, but no inceststuff plz :3]_
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'ed and written fairly quickly. If you find anything jarring, or weird in formatting, just let me know!

Bofur wrings the hat in his hands as he stands next to Bombur outside of the shabby building, worry clear on his face. "Well? Is he gonna die, sir?"

The human healer wipes Bifur's blood off his hands with a dingy cloth and sighs, "I don't rightly know how he's alive still, but he should be dead." 

Bombur frowns, trying to the be the strong one of the two of them, "But, is he gonna die then?" He spreads his hands out, as though pleading with the healer.

The healer shakes his head, "I honestly don't know Master Dwarf. I've never treated such an injury before, and never a dwarf either. If this had been a Man on my table, I could tell you that he'd'a been a corpse already. But as he is a Dwarf, I can not tell you." Before Bofur can ask if Bifur's going to die, again, the healer continues, "I've done all that I can to help and forgive me, but I have no answers as to whether he'll live or not."

"But the axe!" Bofur moans, "It's still in 'is head!"

"I can tell you this with surety, Master Dwarf; if I take that axe out of his head, parts of his brain will come with it, no matter how careful I am. And he'd bleed to death as well." The healer's harsh words would normally seem cruel, but his evident weariness tells both dwarrows that the healer is just too tired to molly-coddle them with kind words.

"Oh," Bofur breathes out, swallowing the knot in his throat. He doesn't want Bifur to die. Bifur is family; his cousin who is as good as his brother!

"Thank ya for your time, Healer," Bombur pushes Bofur with his elbow, making the thin dwarf stumble forward towards Bifur and the table he's laid out on. Bombur shakes the healer's hand and passes a few gold coins to him surreptitiously before the Man leaves. Tugging the thick canvas ties, Bombur carefully makes sure that the cloth falls to cover the entire door before following Bofur to where Bifur lays, breathing shallowly.

Bifur's eyes are closed and his face is lax, seemingly calm. Bofur reaches out with a nervous hand and tucks a few stray beard hairs down, clearing them away from Bifur's lips. "Oh Mahal. Bifur," Bofur's entire body starts to shake, "Cousin-" Bofur strokes Bifur's cheek and Bombur wraps an arm around Bofur's waist when he starts to sag, hardly able to keep himself on his feet.

"Bofur," Bombur's voice is low and quiet, as though speaking a secret that no one else is allowed to hear. "We have to make a choice, Bofur." 

Bofur isn't sure what his brother means, can't focus enough on Bombur to care really. His cousin as an axe in his head! How can he concentrate on anything else right now? "Bombur, please-" Bofur's voice trembles like the rest of him, "How can you be so calm about this?" Suddenly angry, Bofur glares at his brother, practically spitting his words out, "Bifur's hoverin' betwixt life an' death, and you wan' ta talk about us havin' a choice?"

Bombur's eyes are sober and sad and Bofur pauses. Bombur isn't calm, he's just hiding it, pretending to be calm for Bofur's sake. "But we have to make this choice, Bofur." Bombur murmurs to him. "It's important."

Weariness and sorrow replaces Bofur's anger and he nods, looking down at his hands. His hat, the hat that Bifur made for him just a year ago now, is limp in his hands and he pets it, feeling the softness of it. "What do we hav'ta chose, Bombur?" He asks in a defeated tone. He doesn't actually have to ask because he knows what Bombur is going to say. He knows intellectually what they need to talk about, what choice then need to make, but it hurts Bofur's heart so much to even think about it, never mind talk about it out loud.

"Should we care for Bifur and hope he wakes up, or-" Bombur stumbles on the words and Bofur chokes back a sob. 

Or do they not, and they send him to Mahal.

Those are their choices.

"If he wakes up, he'll never be the same again, will he?" Bofur's emotions are tearing him up inside and it's hard for Bofur to draw enough air into his lungs to breathe. 

"Nay, Bofur. He'll never be the same if he wakes." Bombur hugs Bofur tight, pulling his little brother in close. The five years that separate them rarely make a difference, but Bofur is glad that Bombur is the eldest of them right now. He doesn't want to have a say in this. 

Bifur will either wake up, and be different. Or he'll sleep until Mahal calls him home. Or Bombur and Bofur will send him to Mahal. 

Bofur isn't sure which of those would hurt him the most.

"I don't want him to leave," Bofur mutters. He doesn't fight Bombur's hug, leaning back on his brother. 

"Are you willing to take care of him until he wakes or dies?" Bombur asks gently. Bofur knows that his brother is willing to help Bifur in any way that he can, but it makes Bofur's insides twist to know that Bombur is also willing to send Bifur to the Halls.

It takes a long moment before Bofur can answer his brother's question. There are things to consider with either decision. Would they be prolonging Bifur's suffering? Would they be able to make enough money to live and care for Bifur if one of them doesn't have a job? 

In the end, it doesn't really matter. Bofur won't let Bifur leave them like this.

"I can tinker and toy make at his bedside," Bofur murmurs, leaning back towards the eldest of the three. Bifur may be related to them as a cousin, but he'd grown up with them in their house as a brother and Bofur can't imagine life without Bifur.

"Then we'll do what we can for him," Bombur nods, the decision made. Neither of them regrets.

Three months later, when Bifur opens his eyes and speaks Khuzdul instead of common at them, has unexplainable fits, and likes strange things that he's never liked before, Bombur and Bofur can only be glad that they have Bifur back with them and there are still no, and never will be any, regrets.


End file.
